Empyrean Relics
by haliai
Summary: Three days, two murders and one kidnapping later, a girl finds herself on another continent in another world. "I don't care what you say, I am no Tessa nor Clary, and I'm sure as hell not dressing like a sex slave." What would you do if you found yourself surrounded by people you know, and people others can't see? OC


_Prologue_

He watched as the girl stepped out on her balcony, a glass of what looked like wine in her hand, but even with his sense enforcing runes, he couldn't be sure. She'd always been more of a hot chocolate kind of gal, after all.

"You going to sit there all night?"

Ofcourse she knew he was there, she always did. Despite her gaze remaining fixed on the rather dreary scenery of New York before them –there were more pleasant neighborhoods for her to live in, but he wouldn't question it- the girl's disarming effect on him kicked in gear.

Even when he easily lowered himself from the roof above her top floor apartment, cautioned, and his joint cracked in protest of the sudden brisk movements, she still wouldn't grace him with a glance of her face.

"Really should have strengthened those barriers." She finally spoke, more to herself, her head shaking ever so slightly before she took another sip from her glass. Two colorful orbs remained fixed on the shimmering veil barely two feet before her which kept out the coiling toxic fumes which drowned New York City, but was no match for Aaron Herondale.

His set of blue orbs –glimmering in stark contrast to the murky gray of the Hudson river- couldn't begin the fathom the thing hers had seen, although she hadn't been the sharing type to begin with. "I-" He started to pull the gun from his pocket, where it had been burning against his skin much in the way he's imagined a bullet to feel.

Again, in what seemed like a horrible couple trait they'd developed, she interrupted him and turned around. "Stop talking, Herondale, late apologies are no more useful than early excuses."

"I'll stay here, waiting, for as long as it takes, Eleanor." Damn him for being a man of his word. If curiosity killed the cat, pride would be the death of him. Somehow, the chances of his life turning into a proverb seemed slim.

"I know." Another sighed slipped passed her parted lips, fogging up the rim of her glass, before she pushed herself off the balcony's railing.

Aaron still had yet to catch a glimpse of her face, and finally kicked into gear as her silhouette passed the threshold of her narrow balcony, the gun in his hand raising at her turned back, too late and in vain.

Once again alone and furious with himself, he turned, both palms crashing down on the marble surface of the railing, the carefully engraved gun which rested under his right, remained unscathed.

It was only seconds later, when she returned, another glass held out towards him as she came to rest beside him, leaning against the railing. He took the glass blindly, finally permitting himself a look at her face and gazing at it without shame, even though she still wasn't quite looking at him.

"Figured you wouldn't mind waiting a bit longer." She took another sip from her glass, the dubious hadn't gone lost on either of them.

Slowly, he glided the gun over the marble to rest before her. "I didn't." Her irises kept shimmering in thousands of different hues and colors, clearly paying no mind to him or the damned object in front of her, the scene of New York taking up all of her undivided attention. "I _wouldn't_." Aaron paused, raking a hair through his dark blond locks, a nervous trait with Eleanor mouth twitch upwards from her peripheral vision, before he continued. "This is madness, Eleanor, you can't intend to forever live a life like this, a lie, you-" _Here it comes_, she thought bitterly. "You deserve better." Aaron nodded affirmatively, as if to himself, content with his conclusion.

Finally, the millions of flickering shades on her irises died down, returning to the more natural, darker side of the color pallet. Her eyebrows had raised only momentarily, but other than that, Aaron got no other clues as to her monumental moodshift. "_It's fun to lose and to pretend_, Herondale." Eleanor's voice was considerably softer, her intonation shifting as she once again brought up their inside joke.

It was evident she was trying to convince him of her choices, along with herself. However, her walls had crumbled, and Aaron knew it, so he simply smiled, nearly singing "_She's overboard and self-assured_, Montclaire."

And then, finally, as if the dark sky clearing to reveal a vibrant sun, her eyes cleared to a golden color and her lips stretched in a smile, before she laughed.

"Touché." As she shifted her glass from her left to her right hand, Aaron finally brought his to his lips, his smile only broadening '_Smells like teen spirit' _he thought, before raising the glass to his lips, only to nearly drop as her fingers touched his temple and his world went blank.

* * *

AN: I am completely aware you must have risen an eyebrow more than once whilst reading this, but everything will soon(ish) be explained in the upcoming chapters. This might be partially due to the fact that this isn't really a prologue, more so some type of flash forward to a pivotal turning point in the story. Either way, please review and let me know what you think so far! I'm really excited to get this story out there. Thank you for reading.


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